Today I decided to take the apartment with the big French windows. Then decided not to. Then decided to do it again and had B call the agency. We can't go in with the paperwork till Tuesday though, so I'm still going feverishly between decisions. Not that you can really call them that. Seriously what would you do? I can't stay here! B and all that surrounds him smells bad! And his apartment is painful to every one of the the senses, especially the eyes. You can't take a shower here, you have to sit in a slimy tub and put yourself under the faucet, turning the water off while you try to wash your hair or a body part before you freeze to death because there's only [equal to or less than] 10 min of hot water.
But! I am a girl without a car, a salvation army, craigslist, or language facilities. Moving into an unfurnished apartment will be no picnic. But by God at least there's a sparkling clean shower. It's a really cute place, with high victorian style windows and a little porch over a cute French street. It's old but also bares a few marks of modernity; aka a functional kitchen and shower.
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